


Interrogation

by lyricalsoul



Series: Love and Happiness [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Detective Inspector Lestrade - Freeform, Dialogue-Only, Love and Happiness Series, M/M, Mycroft Being Mycroft, Mycroft has fingers in all the pies... even Ikea's, Mycroft's Meddling, Phone Sex, sexy talking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-23
Updated: 2013-03-23
Packaged: 2017-12-06 05:01:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/731715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lyricalsoul/pseuds/lyricalsoul
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As if shutting down Ikea for a few hours wasn't enough. Mycroft does things; Detective Inspector Lestrade is on the case. With some sexy talk thrown in. Because Greg can't help himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Interrogation

**Author's Note:**

> Theo (Mice) suggested that Mycroft would have scorched the earth instead of simply shutting down Ikea for a bit. After a few hours of deliberation, I figured that was about right. The earth isn't scorched, but the response is a bit more Mycroftian. 
> 
> Thanks for all the notes and comments and kudos. They never fail to make me smile.

“Gregory. What a lovely surprise.”

“Oh?”

“Two seconds into the conversation, and we’re already on the wrong foot.”

“I’m a bit put out. What have you done?”

“As I have said a thousand times this past year, I am not omniscient. Please be a tad more specific.”

“As in you’ve done so many things you’ve lost track?”

“Gregory.”

“Ikea isn’t getting any shipments for the foreseeable future. Their freighters were hijacked, and haven’t been heard from since yesterday.”

“A severe blow to the prison furnishings industry, most certainly.”

“Hilarious. Did you have anything to do with that?”

“You think I've interfered with Ikea’s inventory? I haven’t time to do such trivial things, Gregory.”

“So it’s just coincidence that two hours after you set fire to the coffee table that you couldn’t manage to put together, the telly is all abuzz with the news that Ikea has lost a freighter full of goods somewhere near Greenland?”

“I am not fond of coincidences, but I can see how you would put those events together and declare me guilty.”

“Are you guilty?”

“Of many things. But not this.”

“So not only did I not get to finish my trip to Ikea, I’m not getting any furniture for my room.”

“As we speak, I’m taking steps to ensure that you get what you want, though unfortunately, it won’t be from… that place. I do so hope you don’t mind that it’s of a better quality, and that it doesn’t require an Allen wrench to put it together. Would that I could find Allen and make him rue the day he ever thought up such an asinine device.”

“Mycroft.”

“Hm?”

“I don’t believe you.”

“I am aware that you don’t, but there is little I can do convince you. You know how you get.”

“How I get?”

“Well, I didn’t want to be the one to tell you, but you can be a tad petulant when you feel put upon.”

“Petulant?”

“Sulky or-“

“I know what it means. I’m not being petulant. Or sulky. I smell something rotten in Downing Street. Or wherever your office is this week.”

“I am in Rome, for all intents and purposes.”

“Rome? Well, don’t think that’s going to get you off the hook. Though if we’re talking ancient Rome, the thought of you in a toga is hot.”

“And just how would I… that is… _ancient_ Rome, Gregory?”

“I’m sure you’ve got some connections that could make it work.”

“Thankfully, my minor position doesn’t afford me the luxury of time travel.”

“Well, if anyone could, it would be you. And I’m not going to get into that ‘minor position’ thing with you, since we both know that’s not true.”

“It is not a lie to keep the truth to one’s self.”

“You should stitch that on a few pillows.”

“Yes, well, as much as I’d love to stay on the line exchanging bon mots with you, I am, as previously stated, in Rome. So, unless there is more I can do for you, I’ll-“

“Look, Mycroft… we both know you’re behind this shipping glitch. The sooner you admit it, the sooner we can get back to normal.”

“Oh, have we gotten away from normal?”

“You tell me when you spend a night or two on the lie low.”

“I don’t have a lie low.”

“You do now, since what’s mine is yours. Sherlock used to sleep on it before he moved to Baker Street. I’m sure you’ll love it.”

“I did not divert any Ikea furnishings to a small, isolated port in the Baffin Sea.”

“Very specific answer for someone with no knowledge of the crime.”

“Detective Inspector, are you interrogating me?”

“Not at all. Just… having a bit of a chat with my chap.”

“There have been many attempts to question me. None have ended well.”

“I’m sure none of those questioners could do that thing that I do with my tongue.”

“Gregory.”

“I know you’re much too clever to be broken by a mere Detective Inspector, Mastermind. But then, I’m not so easily swayed.”

“Dear lord, not this again. Listen… there isn’t anything to tell. I do hope this shipping glitch gets sorted soon. People will surely suffer without a place to go to be driven insane by walking in a circle looking at hideous furnishings.”

“Oh, it wasn’t that bad. And I made it well worth your while. I get to burn up in a scarf because you like to bite my neck like a bloody vampire while you pin me down and fuck me. I think spending an hour or two in Ikea is a fair trade.”

“I would prefer not to bring up your neck and how it got that way.”

“A crack in the ice, yeah? What are you wearing? No… what are you wearing under your trousers?”

“Gregory, no. Did I mention I was in Rome?”

“You did.”

“And you understand what that means?”

“I do.”

“Yet you insist on behaving inappropriately.”

“Are they silk?”

“Is what silk?”

“Your pants.”

“I’m not engaging in your shenanigans, Gregory.”

“I’m wearing grey boxer briefs. Very form fitting. A bit thin, though. Good thing I’m wearing jeans.”

“Are you?”

“Yeah. Had to go see one of my informants today. Couldn’t go in a suit; conspicuous. So, jeans, button down, and leather jacket. Some bloke said I was sexy.”

“I am most certain you are. Especially in jeans. Oh, look at the time! Have we finished? I do have work to do…”

“You haven’t answered my question. Silk?”

“No. Cotton. Drake’s. White with a navy and black check. Nothing special. Are we done?”

“Oh… that’s such a sexy picture. You, in old-fashioned, two button boxers under your suit. God, Mycroft. That’s really got me going.”

“That is hardly a compliment. A light wind across your neck 'gets you going'.”

“I'm imaginging you in nothing but boxer shorts. Such a fine picture, with that light hair and freckles all over those long legs of yours. Wish I was there with you now. I’d pop those buttons, slip a hand in, and get you off so fast… you’d come so hard, you would see stars. I’d do it on my knees. Maybe in the loo, or in the closet. Or I can squeeze under your desk while you’re on the phone. Take out your gorgeous cock and suck it like a lolly. You’d have to be quiet because you’re talking to the PM, or some mucky-muck from the embassy.”

“Christ…”

“Not quite, my sweet, sexy Mastermind. I haven’t told you the best part.”

“Perhaps we could finish this discussion later when I’m not taking part in negotiations.”

“We could do that, but I think you’ll want to hear the part where I strip down ‘til I’m not wearing anything but this leather coat and a smile, and have it off while looking right into your shocked blue eyes… god… that’s got me hard. Hard as fuck, Mycroft.”

“Don’t… when you say my name like that… low and husky… I can’t concentrate.”

“I know that, _Mycroft_. It’s such an odd name, but I love the way it just slides off my tongue… I have such great memories of saying it while you’ve got your long fingers all over me. Fucking sexy, that.”

“All right. Enough.”

“What?”

“Don’t play the innocent, Detective Inspector; it doesn’t suit you.”

“So you’re ready to confess?”

“I admit nothing. However, I will say that I may or may not have information as to how that freighter got off course.”

“And you’ll see to it that it gets back on course?”

“I’ll… see what I can do.”

“Shame you, Mycroft Holmes! Sending a shipment off course because you hated the store.”

“Again, I disavow any knowledge of any such thing.”

“That’s as good as a confession.”

“You most certainly have an interesting ah, interrogation method. Charming, sexy, and very distracting.”

“I only use it on my more intransigent suspects.”

“Get many of those, do you?”

“Don’t be jealous, Mastermind. I belong to you, body and heart.”

“Ugh, sentiment. Might I be released on bail, Detective Inspector? One of the envoys from Rome seems to have noticed that I am a tiny bit distracted.”

“Do I need to come round and show him that you’re taken?”

“She, and no.”

“If you were in ancient Rome, it wouldn’t be an issue.”

“No doubt. I really must go.”

“Yeah, yeah… see you… when?”

“Tuesday, perhaps. Monday, hopefully.”

“That’s three days, Mycroft.”

“I have a calendar. Don’t forget the painters are starting tomorrow. Do not help them, or put on those shorts. I will know.”

“I’m working tomorrow, so no shorts or painting. Meeting Liz for brunch Sunday to sign papers and pretend we’ll miss each other. Pub with John, and Monday off. Hopefully, you’ll be home by then.”

“I’ll try. Talk later.”

“Mycroft.”

“Yes?”

“I… ah, just, well... even though you’ve pissed me off, messing with my furniture, and doing those things you do, I’m glad to be with you. You know?”

“I do. The feeling is more than mutual.”

*click*

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I have no idea how Ikea gets their goods shipped, so I made something up. 
> 
> And the Ancient Rome thing is cracky, but come on... you know it was funny!


End file.
